Target of abuse
by The fan of supernatural
Summary: The way John saw it, he was being a good father and teaching Sam discipline. The way Sam saw it, he was being abused by his drunk father. Child abuse. Teen!chesters pre-series Sam/12/hurt Dean/16/angry
1. Chapter 1

Hey guys, sorry if there's some spelling mistakes, wrote thisleast night and decided to put it up! I have to stop writing hurt Sammy and protective Dean. Not any time soon though! Hope you enjoy, more chapters coming up soon!

**Review for more chapters! **

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**"You're worthless Sam! If you can't do something as simple as shooting a target than you're worthless to me." John hollered, spit flying. Sam trembled in anger and fear, lowering his gun and taking a deep breath.**

"I'm sorry dad. I'll try again." Sam said quietly. John glared at him in spite, folding his arms. Sam hated it when this happened. Dean was out, his dad was drunk and angry and he wasn't having one of his good coordination days.

"Well, I'm waiting." John growled. Sam lifted the gun up, praying he would hit the target. He aimed, and shot. Fail.

"You. Get in the house. Now." John yelled. Sam dropped the gun, sprinting into the house.

"Please let Dean be back." Sam mumbled under his breath. No such luck. The motel was empty and bleak, which must made it more scary to Sam. John stormed into the house, slamming the door behind him.

"I'm sorry sir." Sam said softly. John clenched his fists.

"Are you trying to make me angry?"

"No sir."

"Then stop missing the damned target!" John shouted. Sam sighed.

"I'll try harder." Sam said, sweat pouring down his red face. This just seemed to anger his father more.

"What, so you weren't trying you're hardest before? You need discipline my boy. And if that happens again I'll bloody well smack you." John slurred, then storming out of the room. Sam leaned into the couch, head in his hands. He started sobbing quietly. Today was a bad day. But little did he know that it as going to get worse.


	2. Chapter 2

**hey guys! Told you a new chapter would be up! :-) sorry, I left it on an evil cliff hanger! Ill update if I get some reviews from you guys!**

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**"Hey Sammy, what's up?" Dean said in a relaxed tone, plopping on the sofa beside his brother. Sam shrugged his shoulders, closing his eyes so Dean wouldn't see the tears of relief that was brimming in his eyes. Dean was back, and John wouldn't get angry at him with his brother there, would he?**

"Sammy? Are you okay?" Dean asked. Sam nodded, then quickly got up.

"I'm going to bed. Night Dean." Sam sighed. Dean quickly followed him, grabbing his arm before Sam crept into his bedroom.

"Sam, what's wrong?"

"Nothing. Can't a guy be tired?" Sam said, plastering a fake smile on his pale face to reassure Dean. Dean let his arm go, turning and thumping down the stairs. Sam sighed again, before flopping onto his bed. Closing his eyes, Sam thought about the tough training he did today. John hadn't hit him yet, but Sam could see it in his eyes. He wanted to, but Dean was always around. So he took his anger out on Sam, training him and ordering harder then he had ever done before. Oh god, his legs were sore.

(the next day)

"Dad, I'm going out with some friends, be back by ten." Dean called out. Sam ran towards the doorway, blocking Dean from leaving.

"Do you have to go?" Sam pleaded. Dean gave him a strange look.

"Why not?"

"Because... Because I just don't want you to go. Please Dean." Sam said softly.

John came up behind Sam, putting an awkward hand on his shoulder.

"Come on Sammy. We'll do more training won't we? Dean you can go." John said calmly. Sam quickly changed his mind, knowing he'd be for it if e didn't let Dean go. At least then John didn't have a reason to be angry.

"Yes, go." Sam said, a slight hitch in his voice.

"Okay. See you in a few hours." The slam of the door rattled the house. Sam turned away from his fathers piercing gaze.

"Sam."

"Yes sir?" Sam answered.

"I'm going out. Be back in ten." John said, and before Sam could say a word he was out the door as well. Sam took a deep breath and got some water, laying down on the couch with his feet up.

Ten minutes passed.

Twenty minutes.

Half an hour. Sam began to worry.

Fifty minutes.

An hour.

Finally the door opened and his father stood there in the doorway.

"Come 'ere Sam!" His dad shouted. Oh god! His dad was drunk.

"I said come 'ere!" John bellowed. Sam got up gingerly, making his way to his father. John swayed slightly on his feet, his breath making Sam reel back in shock.

"Dad..." Sam began, but was cut off by John slamming his fist into his face and sending him flying. Sam got up, knowing John would tell him to do so anyway.

"You need to learn a lesson you do." John snarled, kicking Sam the gut. Sam began to sob, clutching his stomach in agony.

"Dad... Please." Sam wailed. John backhanded him, before pushing him to the floor. Sam gaped at his father. Never had he been this drunk before.

"You do as I say and be quiet!"John yelled. Sam gasped as another fist connected with his nose. Sam moaned softly as John kicked him multiple times in the ribs.

"You killed your mother, you killed my wife. She died protecting you, Sam. It's all your fault she's not living now. And you're such a rubbish solider, can't even hit a target." John slurred. He kicked him a few times for good measure before staggering out the house, leaving a bleeding bloody mess all over the floor.

**Review for more chapters!**


	3. Chapter 3

_**sorry guys, that isn't a very good chapter! It just leaves you on another cliffhanger! I promise u guys if I get reviews I will update tomorow!**_

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When Sam finally came to, he was still lying on the floor. Sam groaned softly, opening his eyes a fraction. Everything came into focus and all the memories came flooding back.  
"Oh, god..." Sam moaned, his head aching. He tried to lift himself up but a searing pain cut through him. Sam screamed out, a small river trickling down his ashen cheek. Where was Dean?

"Bye guys!"  
"Bye Dean!"  
Dean swaggered down the street, the cool air cooling his flushed face. Oh, that was a sweet party. A lot of girls. Just how Dean liked it. He got out his phone and called John. No answer. He called Sam. No answer.  
"Shit. Answer please!" Dean whispered into his phone. His reply was silence. Dean quickened his pace into a jog, and then a run. The party was only a few streets down, but to Dean it felt like a marathon. When he finally reached the house, he banged on the door. No answer. Dean felt like screaming.  
"Open the goddamn door!" Dean yelled through the slot in the door. An eerie silence fell over the garden.  
"Just gonna have to bust it open." Dean said, a slight smile tugging at his lips. He hadn't done this since he was twelve. Sam's age. The thought of Sam made Dean ram his full body into the door over and over. But something out of the corner of his eye stopped him. An open window.  
"Why didn't I see that before? That would have saved a lot of trouble." Dean muttered. He scrambled through the window, landing perfectly on both legs.  
"Sammy!" Dean shouted instantly. He was answered with a soft groan. Dean's heart skipped a beat and bit down his lip in worry.  
"Sam? Where are you?"  
"D'n." He heard Sam whine. He sprinted into the living room and stopped dead. There was his brother. His twelve year old little brother lying sprawled on the ground, surrounded with his own blood. Dean's heart plummeted to his feet.  
Sent from my iPad


	4. Chapter 4

**Hey guys! Hope you like! Next chapter there's gonna be fighting :-) heehee!**

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**Dean's breath caught in his throat, at the sight of his baby brother lying their In a pool of his own blood. He rushed over, taking in Sam's pale face.**

"C'mon Sam, talk to me, open your eyes!" Dean begged, hurriedly sitting Sam up. Sam groaned, but immediately relaxed under Dean's touch.

"D'n?" Sam mumbled.

"Yeah, kiddo. Open your eyes for me now." Dean said, grabbing the medical bag. Sam opened his eyes slowly, as if they were heavy bricks.

"D'n!" Sam said, a smile tugging at his lips. Dean cleaned the blood up on Sam's head. Although it looked bad, it was really only a scratch. What Dean was worried about was Sam's arm. It was covered in bruises and blood and twisted at a weird angle. He gently straightened it, Sam wincing. No broken bones, but thats gonna hurt like hell, Dean thought. After Dean had patched up all the other injuries, he supported Sam and tucked him in bed. He wanted answers. And he wanted them now. Sam felt a lot better now, but the worry that his father was coming was to great to ignore.

"Sam. What the hell happened to you while I was out? And where is dad?" Dean said, not bothering to hide his annoyance in his voice. Sam trembled like a leaf. Dean grabbed his hand in a protective way, squeezing it affectionately.

"Calm down Sammy. Deep breaths, in and out, in and out." Dean said softly. Sam calmed down after a while, his head bobbing up and down in the effort to stay awake. Dean had checked for concussions, and there seemed to be nothing. There was a deafening silence in the bedroom.

"It was... Dad." Sam choked out suddenly, swallowing back his tears. Dean's head snapped up, instantly moving closer to Sam. Sam could literally feel the heat radiating of his brother.

"What?" Dean demanded, his voice like nails.

"H-He went out... And he came back. D-D-Drunk. A-And... He hit me." Sam stuttered tearfully. Dean sprang up like he had been electrocuted. He looked so angry, Sam swore he could see smoke pouring out of his ears.

"The bastard!" Dean yelled, punching the wall beside him in his anger. Sam sobbed, he shouldn't have told him. Dean, looking at his brother, turned from sour to sweet and was instantly by his side.

"It's okay Sammy, I won't let him hurt you anymore." Dean said, hugging his brother close. Sam snuggled into his brother, while Dean pushed them both in bed, pulling the cover over him.

"Go to sleep baby." Dean crooned, stroking his brother shake comfortingly. Sam shuddered, his rapid breathing slowing into soft snores. His head was buried in Dean's chest, body pressed into his brothers. Dean felt so angry right now he could have killed somebody.

"When that idiot comes home..." Dean cursed under his breath.

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Twenty minutes after Sam fell asleep, Dean crept out to get some water. He nearly dropped the glass when he heard Sam screaming. Dean grabbed the gun on the side, racing up the stairs.

"Sam!" Dean shouted, flinging the door open and pointing the gun at nothing in particular. Sam was writhing about in his bed, sweating and shivering at the same time. Dean lowered the gun, then dropped it, kicking it under the bed. He slowly approached Sam, shaking him awake.

"Sammy, it's just a nightmare. Wake up." Dean coaxed. Suddenly, Sam sat up in his bed, panting hard. He fell into Dean's arms, weeping and shaking.

"It was just a dream Sammy. I'll always be here." Dean said quietly, prying Sam's hands off his waist. The brothers stayed like that for a few minutes, Sam's sobs slowly quieting down to quiet crying and them nothing.

"Dean?" Sam spoke up.

"Yes Sammy?" Dean said.

"Why does dad hate me?" Sam asked, his voice trembling. Dean took a Sharp intake of breath.

"H-He doesn't HATE you Sam. He was just... Drunk." Dean said, his voice wavering.

"He does. When you were drunk Dean, you know, when you went to a friends, you didn't come back and hit me." Sam said softly, tightening his grip on Dean's hand. Dean had no answer to that, just started to rock Sam quietly in his lap. Until they heard their dad stumbling into the motel. Then everything went downhill.


End file.
